


Dancing with Draco

by BluePassion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluePassion/pseuds/BluePassion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione shares a dance and a conversation and regrets her life choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing with Draco

It was at a party, celebrating the first year since the final defeat of Voldemort (now nobody called him anything else), that they wound up together. 

Truthfully it was unexpected; he had just gotten fed up with so many people around him and she just needed some air. Things where rocky with her and Ron at best it seemed. 

However it happened the unlikely pair found themselves wedged into a small table together on the patio of the building where Luna and Neville had decided the party should be held. 

He with his blonde hair, ever slicked back, and she with her bushy brown hair, just like always were still clinging to the parts of them that yearned to be children. 

War, however, destroyed that chance. For the both of them. 

One struggled with friends through woods and mountains and against evil to do what was right, no matter how many friends they saw die before them. 

The other shouldered evil itself, forced to do its bidding because he had been just a child and obeyed his parents. 

Yes, war destroyed their childhood and made them into adults far to early. 

He in his tailored, top-of-the-line, black suit and she in her store-bought blue dress, were also an inkling of their futures. They were maturing, finally expressing adulthood through decisions that were not life or death. 

The air she had sought was cool and chilled her, awaking her senses. He felt its breeze and no longer smelled the sweat of people dancing and cheap perfumes. 

She didn't know it but, as they sat in their silence for the first twenty minutes, he had been struggling to form a single sentence. Yet even though his brain knew what the sentence would be, and had thoroughly weighed the pros and cons of saying that sentence aloud, his mouth refused to cooperate. His lips and tongues were adamant in their refusal to properly form only five words. 

Maybe though it was his vocal cords that were the real problem; maybe they refused to give him voice. There was a very real chance it was them; not allowing any sound out of his lips at all to stop the crushing blow it would give his reputation (even if he no longer wanted to have it). 

While he mulled over what body part it was that refused to allow him to say the sentence she played with the edge of her dress and pondered three words. Not 'I love you', no, she was just starting to see him as a friend. The idea that those words would come out of her mouth almost made her laugh; she thought her brain foolish to even think it could be them. 

She just wanted to let him know, that from the bottom of her heart, she forgave him. For his part in the war and maybe especially his schoolyard behavior. Living with Death Eaters would be hard enough; she couldn't imagine growing up with them and getting fed their ideals and way of life. She thought it was damaging and resolved to make sure she never forced her own believes onto her children. 

"I never did hate you." He told her, his voice almost a whisper. Even in the cool of the night she felt heat flare across her body. 

"I forgive you." She told him, her voice loud and clear. She wanted him to know that. She didn't know if anybody had ever told him that. 

"I know...I know I was horrendous to you. And to your friends. I know that I was a bloody little bastard and I'm sorry. No matter who my parents were, or how they raised me, I know it isn't a good excuse. I should have been able to make my own decisions. Should have been able to express some goddamn autonomy. I just wanted to know I never hated you." When he was finally able to talk the words came spilling out. All the things he wanted to say but had never been able to. All the thoughts he had kept locked up. "It's just, do you what to know something ridiculous?" He didn't wait for her to answer but continued on. 

"I was trying to please my father. I thought that if I could emulate him, that if I could be him, then he'd love me. Then he'd show me some form of affection. I figured if I wasn't good enough then turning into a younger him would have to be. There's nobody my father loved more then himself. So I did what he did; I hated people without the same blood as me, or from a different house. I treated people without as much money as me as scum. Hell, you were there. You know. I just never hated you is all. I'm sorry." 

The admission was one she never expected to hear. She had always thought, even when she was younger, that the situation he told him about was the case. She just never thought to hear it from his lips. It shocked her into silence and he didn't speak again either. 

He let it wash over them like rain; he hoped it was enough to finally make peace with the three of them. He knew if he could convince her of his real feelings he would find his staunchest supporter. She was, after all, a Gryffindor. 

"Draco, I forgive you. I can't imagine what you must have been going through. I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. You were just...a soldier. We all were." This she whispered, unsure if her voice could withstand the weight of her words. 

He smiled sadly. "For...for awhile there actually I teased you, just you not the other two, because I didn't know how else to talk to you. All my parents ever did was fight and even when I walked in on my father and my aunt they were never happy. Constant fighting, back and forth. Insults were the pet names in my house. I guess that's why I only ever called you those names. I had such a thing for you. I hated myself for it; if my father ever found out about it he would have killed me." 

That was a revelation she never thought would exist, let alone one she would hear.

"You, Draco Malfoy, had a crush on me, Hermione Granger?" She laughed; she couldn't stop herself. 

He was smiling to though and it made her smile wider. "Yeah, yeah I did. Head over heels I was in third year. Then you had to punch me." 

"You deserved it!" She yelled and he laughed now. 

"Oh god yeah. Probably deserved a few more too." His smile faded.

The gravity of that sentence hit her like a brick. Her stomach twisted more then ever before. She found her hand stretching over the small table to find his. It took him a moment before he laced his fingers with hers. "You didn't deserve anything that happened to you Draco. Out of everybody still standing you might be the worst off. If you ever need anybody to talk too...I'm here for you." 

She was glad to see his smile return and at the reemergence of the blonde's smirk hers did as well. "So, would third year Draco be able to handle himself with a dance?" She teased. 

He laughed. "Third year me? Gods no. But I can fare my own now. I won't combust or anything." 

They stood up together and she lead him away from the table, to a clearer spot on the patio where they could still hear the music, and they danced. 

"Don't worry Granger, I've moved on. I won't try to kiss you. After all, you did." He smiled at her, hoping to elevate any awkwardness she might feel. 

Only when he said the words did she regret it. "Yeah, I did." She said, softly. 

She wasn't sure how she felt about that in that moment, dancing with Draco.


End file.
